Shatter
by Pertelot
Summary: Naraku's desires begin to build, and circumstance provides a window for him to vent on an unsuspecting target... (yaoi, rape, MirokuxNaraku)
1. Peace

Author's Note: DUN DUN DUN! Mah first Inu-Yasha fanfic. I'm just so gosh-derned happy. Yeah.

And my very first yaoi one to boot! My idols… are Sunfreak, Katalyst, and mixe. Yes. I seceretly worship you all in my hallway closet ^.^ KWAHAHA!

I plan to write a good deal more, in my free time… my favorite cannon couple is Inu-Yasha/Kagome (I despise Kikyou.) and I'm a big supporter of that. But Inu-Yasha/Miroku is so much yummier. And …mmm…Naraku… no words are needed. 

Miroku's mah favorite "good guy". Naraku's my favorite "bad Guy". 

…heheheheh…

This takes place in the middle of volume 12. -.o I know, I know, my resources are limited, but I do have access to manga translations and scans. Full youkai Naraku ish yummy ^.^ After the encounter with Jinenji, but before the encounter on the mountain and stuff. Sort of AU, I guess.

Disclaimer: I don't own Inu-Yasha. Big surprise, ne? I expect everyone reading this fic will have a heart attack and die from the sheer shock of that new. **shakes head** If I actually owed this… they wouldn't be able to sell it in decent family-friendly book stores. **evil grin**

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Chapter 1- Peace 

"But then peace, peace! I am so mistrustful of it: so much afraid that it means a sort of weakness and giving in." -D. H. Lawrence, _Selected Letters of D. H. Lawrence_

-----

"I'm tired of explaining it, Inu-Yasha! I have to go home!"

The said hanyou dug his heels into the ground and blatantly refused to let go of Kagome's right wrist as she shouted those words for the umpteenth time that day. Kagome had made the mistake of believing Inu-Yasha had grown accustomed to her sparse trips into her own world. Obviously not.

Hence the term 'mistake'. 

"Inu-Yasha!" she turned on him furiously. "Things are obviously getting more and more involving! I'm going to be gone for a long time, and I need to let my mom and my grandpa know! Not to mention," she faltered before she spoke the word "schoolwork". Her future was important to her, but the recent situation had made her studies seem kind of… miniscule.

"Not to mention what?" his dog-ears perked forward. If Kagome were not absolutely furious with the hanyou, she might've paused to notice how incredibly kawaii he was when irked. 

"…other things!" she said, managing to yank her wrist free. "I'll be back in two days, Inu-Yasha!"

"Come back here!" the hanyou sprang after her-

"OSUWARI!"

_SHMACK!_

-and he was flattened to the ground. Growling and digging his claws into the earth in sheer frustration, he watched as she ran off through the forest. Damn unpredictable mood-swinging-typical-cheery-teenage snip of a girl. 

She paused and turned slightly, waving. And then she went on.

Inu-Yasha's furious gaze softened slightly. Maybe she wasn't all _that_ bad.

-.-

"So Kagome-sama has gone off… again?" Miroku cocked a brow at Inu-Yasha, who was sitting near the small fire in Kaede's hut. 

"Yes," Inu-Yasha muttered.

"How long this time?" 

"Two days." 

"That's not so bad, Inu-Yasha," Sango said from where she was sitting opposite of the hanyou, and beside Miroku. Kirara was curled in her lap. "I mean, she's only going off to say goodbye to her family and all. Not as if it were for good or anything. I think her departure is perfectly understandable."

Inu-Yasha blinked very slowly.

"I agree with Sango," Miroku said quickly.

"Of course you do," Inu-Yasha muttered. "Everyone takes the first opportunity that presents itself to team up against me."

"That's right!" Miroku and Shippou chirped cheerily at him, simultaneously. 

Inu-Yasha was left to his grumblings- and the ramen that Kagome had generously left for him. 

-.-

The moon was high in the sky, near full. Only a tiny sliver of shadow kept it from being the full, shining orb that so set lovers' hearts on fire and young girls' eyes a-shine. In was waxing, and hung in the night sky amid the star-studded velvety blackness, beaming soft moonlight down like some grand crescendo, awaiting for its full rising the following night. 

And Miroku felt this crescendo. It might have been near midnight- he did not know. Not a breeze stirred among the silvery grasses, not a wing-beat disturbed the peace in the treetops. In short, silence reigned.

The houshi cast a backwards look towards Kaede's hut. Kaede-baba had been kind enough to allow the group to use her hut for the night as a means of sleep. She had gone off to some other villager's house. No doubt a close friend. 

Inu-Yasha, Sango, and Shippou were fast asleep. Miroku at first had thought the hanyou were merely pretending, as he normally did, but upon closer inspection he realized Inu-Yasha was actually fully and completely knocked out. Even half-youkai need their strength. 

Miroku had seized that moment to go outside. Often, when he used to travel alone, he'd awake in the middle of the night and simply go for a stroll on his own, enjoying he calm that came in the uttermost dead of the night, before the stillness of dawn came. 

Stillness was one thing. In the dawn, one could practically feel the hum of the energy and promise of a new day. The moment when all is groggily awakening, when you are filled with an irrational joy and you want to run, to shout, anything to express the joy within you.

But Miroku liked the simply calm before the joy. He tilted his head, closing his eyes and leaning on his staff. The sound he loved the most- complete and utter silence, and not one borne of death or destruction… one of sweet slumber. Peace.

He swayed slightly as a breeze kicked up. In this absolute peace, he could hear the grasses whisper against one another, as if bearing secrets only those who knew how to capture this moment must know. 

And Miroku was not alone that night. In his contented, blissfully oblivious state of mind, he was alone- but another prowled the shadows. 

--

Kohaku had done his work quickly- after the battle in which Naraku had discovered the true power hiding inside Kagome- to his master's urging. And Naraku was no weakling. Stealing the body of a lord, he'd lain in wait, recovering his strength. The palace hands had been driven away. Only Kohaku was there to aid him. But Kohaku was all he needed.

And as the days passed, and as his strength grew, his anger did also. Curse the fates. Curse that damn girl. Curse that half-breed Inu-Yasha. 

And, as he had regained his previous state of empowerment, he'd made a resolution. He'd make them pay. Inu-Yasha. Kagome. Sango. Miroku. 

So he'd tracked them. It wasn't difficult; tracking them never was. And he found them. And watched them. 

And he'd waited. It was to his disappointment that the girl had fled to safety inside the well. He hadn't been far when watching- careful to place himself downwind of the hanyou (of course, Inu-Yasha's mind was on other things at that moment…) and had watched. He knew he had an opportunity to strike down the girl, to obliterate her then and there… but something had held him back.

That was too easy. He wanted long, delicious torture. 

So he'd waited, deliberating. He'd been driven on by his insulted pride and his dull, steady anger. He was somewhat at a loss as of what to do- not that he'd ever admit that he, the great Naraku, could be seen sitting and twiddling his thumbs. 

Not that he was twiddling his thumbs. That hadn't been invented yet. It wasn't to come to practice 'till about thirty years later, somewhere in Europe. Of course, Naraku had not the foggiest what or where Europe was, or that it existed. Of course he wasn't twiddling his thumbs.

He was dozing.

Maybe it was the way the tree he had perched in swayed and rocked gently, as if moved by an unseen wind. Maybe it was the utter calm and quiet that had fallen over the world like a silky cloak, embracing all in a soft, lulling hold. 

Or perhaps it was the patterns the bright moonlight was making with the shadows of the leaves on the forest floor- mottled dances between barely distinguishable colors that led and fatigued the eyes until one was tempted to merely close them, sigh, and allow slumber to take them. 

And he had almost done just that. Not sigh contentedly and lean back, but nearly completely nodded off when he caught the faintest glimmer of movement out of the corner of his eye. 

The monk.

Naraku stiffened, leaning forward and pushing his baboon-pelt hood back so he could observe the human more clearly. He appeared to be… well, just standing. His bright, purple-blue eyes plainly reflected the moonlight. They were semi-closed, a sign of great relaxation… and then the monk closed them, leaning on his staff. 

Naraku blinked. Apparently the monk had utterly lost his mind.  Miroku knew of the dangers facing he and his companions, Naraku was sure of that. Could this be some kind of trap? No… he was sure they hadn't taken notice of him. If Inu-Yasha had scented him, even for a moment, he would have rushed headlong into battle.

No… this was another of those painstaking opportunities. For once, Naraku was left to curse his own good luck. He watched Miroku, trying to inwardly figure out what would be the best course of action.

-- 

Miroku looked up to the moon, slowly opening his eyes. The breeze that was rustling playfully about the grasses began to pick up, lightly ruffling the monk's hair.

--

Naraku watched. He felt a stirring of some sort of unfamiliar feeling. The monk looked so peaceful. So much a part of this velvety-quiet night. He tilted his head ever so slightly, his gaze becoming quizzical. 

If you have never watched a stray cat roll over the gravel outside your door and wonder why it rolls in such seeming ecstasy, or marveled at the endless stamina of a dog as it races aimlessly from room to room, or stood in silent wonder as a wolf simply gazed, gazed at the bright, full moon hanging high in the sky with eyes widened to manic proportions until an obsessed howl rips its way from the creature's throat, you might not understand what Naraku did next.

He began to wonder. Who was this monk? Miroku had hardly said or done anything to Naraku, though it was obvious he despised the hanyou. Miroku was merely fighting for his life, and the life of his children, and his children's children. It was understandable. Almost noble. 

Why did he stand here, happily oblivious to all but the pleasure stirred by the stillness and wonder of the night? What prompted him, despite all his shortcomings, and despite all the terror and obstacles in his way, to simply enjoy himself?

And yet he hid his sorrow, his fear from his comrades… he was so stoic. So noble. 

Naraku narrowed his eyes. And that so-assumed nobility was what might destroy him, in the end. That monk and his cursed hand. 

He paused. But Miroku couldn't use his hand now… 

Naraku dropped down, silently, and moved forward. 

--

Miroku closed his eyes once more, lifting his face to the full moonlight and simply standing still, sighing deeply. His allowed his mouth to hang slightly open, tasting the crisp night air. If Nirvana was anything like this, this solitary silence… then he was grateful he was a servant of Buddha.

--

On the forest fringe, Naraku froze. He was suddenly aware of something he hadn't felt in a long time, a sort of pulsating throb in every inch of his body. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, his breath quickened, his eyes widened. 

Miroku was goddamned beautiful. 

There was no other word for it. Bathed in moonlight, standing statuesquely, his lips slightly parted, eyes closed, a look of utter peace on his face… he looked as if he, too, were pulsating- but with a quiet joy. Almost… innocent. 

Naraku gave a shudder. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than Miroku. To dissolve that false sense of peace, to defile that innocence… to feel soft, yielding flesh under his hands, to crush his will upon the monk until his will _was_ his prey's will… he wanted to control, to own, to dominate that obstacle which made him shudder so. 

But how? He needed to move quickly. 

--

Miroku slowly opened his eyes with a resigned sigh. Dawn would be soon approaching… and he would need his rest. Keeping Inu-Yasha under control would be enough of a deed tomorrow. He didn't need to do it without any hours of sleep under his belt. 

He turned halfway- then paused, casting one last look to the moon and stars. The breeze, which had clung about him so softly this whole evening, suddenly picked up sharply, blowing against his front. He closed his eyes again, sighing, as his robes were swept back; they pressed against his front, highlighting the sinuous contours of the houshi's body. 

--

Naraku gave a shudder as he saw the monk standing before the gale. He wanted him. He wanted him _now_. 

He had stooped to pluck a handful of strong-smelling plants leaves when he paused. What had brought this irrational desire on? Why did he suddenly want this human, to break, to claim… to shatter? Why?

Miroku opened his hypnotic eyes again and turned. 

….revenge. Anger. To pit the ultimate torture against the one member of Inu-Yasha's accursed band of comrades who hadn't directly affronted him, who was only caught in the age-old struggle of life against death.

His own intent. Seeing someone so innocently happy, seeing someone drinking in such simple pleasures as if they were the finest sake… he needed to show them that no joy was simple. Pain. Pleasure. They went hand in hand.

Desire. The wants of the flesh. His own body, though half-youkai, still held some semblance of human blood… he needed release. He needed to vent thus frustration. All upon an unwilling candidate… an unwilling, goddamned beautiful mystery of a man.

He shuddered with the very deliciousness of it.

He gently breathed his poisonous breath onto the leaves. Pain? No. He'd caused enough pain. Pain was only one form of torture. Physical pain, that is. But to elicit mental anguish and shame… ah. Now there was a new experience. And on so already fragile a man…

Not pain. Pleasure would be his weapon. 

-----

Note: Woo! How was that? I think I'll go ahead and continue, regardless of reviews… but I would like some positive response. BLEEG! Feed me your reviews!

Flames, whatever. I feast upon feedback. Nya. 

-Pertelot


	2. Stillness

Note: Such positive reviews! It makes me happy… Of course I plan to go on. I need to write. Yush. 

I happened to notice something. I don't believe it was ever verified that Naraku knew where Kagome came from… well, I figured he would have figured it out y now, being as clever as he is. Point being, in this story, he knows. Mmyeah. 

**Maliklovers**: Kwaha. Nobody around me seems to think I'm nuts because I love Naraku, 'cause they do, too… thank ye for the first review of the story. And positive, no doubt! What happens to Miroku? You shall see.

**Ami-Maxwell-Chan**: Why, of course you can! I';m flattered that someone would want my stuff on their site. Thank you… yeah. If you need it in a certain format, email me. If not, merely copy and paste it. I'm not picky. 

**Jade Phoenix:  **Cool username. ^.^ Thank you, also. Of course I'm going to continue. I have no life, you see. So I must write. Kwaha. I knew this was a first (on FF.net at least) and that's part of the reason I decided to do it. 

Thank you all!

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Chapter 2- Stillness  
"The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing." -Edmund Burke 

---

Miroku didn't hear the sound of grasses being crushed underfoot until it was much too late. He half-turned, only to meet with a solid chest, and a fistful of herbs was pressed to his face, the hand behind it cupping his mouth and nose. 

"Sleep…" a vaguely familiar voice breathed in his ear. 

Miroku jerked violently, and tried to cry out. As he opened his mouth, the herbs were thrust into it, and he choked, sputtering, breathing in the heady fumes. It could only have been a few moments before he felt his body becoming heavy, leaden. His vision blurred, and he was lost to darkness. 

-.-

Inu-Yasha awoke with a twitch of his canine ears and a yawn. He shuddered all over, almost in an equine manner, shaking off the last vestiges of sleep. Opening his eyes, he peered about the hut. 

Sango was peacefully asleep, and Kirara was curled at her side. Shippou was sharing her pillow. Inu-Yasha turned to look at Miroku-

-but Miroku was gone. 

He blinked. Well… the monk most likely went out to meet with Kaede, or merely to… do what monks do. Inu-Yasha's sleep-fatigued brain didn't care to think this early in the morning. At any rate, he didn't suspect what had actually happened. 

He stretched, yawning again and standing. Yeah. Miroku probably went to visit with Kaede. Discuss the next course of action. Inu-Yasha stepped over Sango, kicking her gently as he did so. "Wake up, Sango."

The demon exterminator jerked and shot him a groggy, annoyed glance. "Good morning to you too." 

-.-

"He's not with you?"

Kaede shook her head. "No. I haven't seen Miroku since yesterday, when you came to me."

Inu-Yasha's ears fell back in confusion. Sango looked mildly worried, but Shippou did not. 

"He probably went chasing after some girl…" Shippou observed, sitting beside Kirara. 

Inu-Yasha twitched. That sounded like the most logical explanation. "Curse him." He snorted. "Miroku will never change his ways." He turned, heading back to the hut. "Come on, you two," he said. "We'd better wait for him to return."

-.-

Sango and Shippou were seated just outside the hut. Shippou was chatting animatedly about some inane subject or another, and Sango was absently nodding, occasionally stating "That's nice" until Shippou started firing questions about Kirara. Then a conversation began. 

Inu-Yasha was sitting on the roof, scanning the forest before him. His slight agitation had grown to anger. He figured Miroku would probably return around noon, and it was still early morning. For a while he sat back, listening to Sango and Shippou talk, until his thoughts drifted. 

What if Miroku didn't return? The thought was an unusual one. Miroku might not have been the trustworthiest, or the most moral of men, but he still didn't believe the monk would actually run off, for good, without a word. 

Finally he stood up. "Sango," he said, looking down to the demon exterminator. "I'm going to go check out the area, all right?"

"What for?" she furrowed her brow. 

"…just to check. Maybe I can track that accursed monk." 

Sango grinned and shook her head. "Go on…"

Inu-Yasha hadn't recalled asking Sango for permission to go, but he decided to let it drop and hopped off the roof, inhaling deeply. The sweet scent of grass, earth… and Miroku. Fresher than the faded scents of yesterday, but not fresh enough to have been this morning. He judged Miroku must have snuck out last night. 

He snorted. "Crafty monk…"

He dropped slightly, following the scent… when an unfamiliar twinge came to his nose. He coughed, looking at the ground. An odd bundle of herbs was there, a heady-scented one. He bent down and whiffed.

The scent was mixed… of Miroku, the herbs… and something else that was vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite place. He brought the herbs to his face and inhaled deeply-

-and then coughed, dropping the bundle as if it had burned him. He began to hack terribly, grabbing at his throat. His vision began to swim-

"Inu-Yasha!?" Sango and Shippou's voices came, as if from very far away. The hanyou's head reeled, and he fell. His limbs began to go stiff, and he couldn't escape the scent of the herbs, which were near. He tried holding his breath, but their powerful fumes burned his nose and choked his throat. 

Sango yanked him away, and he heard her calling for help before his vision went black. 

-.-

The first thing Miroku was aware of was the sounds of birds singing. He twitched, and opened his eyes- promptly shutting them against the soft verdant glow of the forest. His head was buzzing- not necessarily hurting, but merely seeing made him dizzy. 

He groaned lowly, waiting for his equilibrium to assert itself before he attempted to sit up. 

His body wouldn't obey. He blinked, startled. He could move his eyes- and he was breathing… but his limbs were heavy. He managed to jerk, to try and roll over. He couldn't get enough leverage with no power over his legs. He could barely lift his head, though. 

"You look surprised." 

His eyes widened. He knew that voice…

Naraku stepped into view, staring down at him with a superior smirk. He was garbed simply in his palace kimono- no baboon pelt; he had made no effort to conceal himself. Miroku definitely did not like the gleam in his adversary's ruby-red eyes. 

"You didn't think I'd give you liberty to move, did you? And risk you escaping?" he circled the monk slowly, his eyes traveling Miroku's form. Miroku squirmed uncomfortably. Or rather, attempted to. He only managed to make his body twitch. 

Naraku noticed this. "Trying to move? No. Those herbs I used last night- you remember them, right? Well, they have a paralyzing effect. Though I suspect that effect will soon be wearing off…" he looked about. "Do you like it?"

The question seemed simple- almost unlike the eloquent and sinister Naraku. Miroku glanced about. He was lying on his back, among soft moss and yielding plants. He was quite comfortable… and that somewhat disturbed him. He was in a glen of some sort- surrounded by trees. The sun was shining gently from one direction- it was morning. 

"Quite peaceful." Naraku looked about. "Imagine your blood strewn about this clearing." Then he looked to Miroku. "But you aren't afraid to die… are you?" he began to pace. 

Miroku glared at Naraku defiantly. 

"I remember watching you that day. At the Temple of Innocence… it's a shame my plan fell through." The hanyou chuckled darkly. "But opportunities have a way of presenting themselves… don't you agree, Houshi-sama?"

Miroku still said nothing. He couldn't see where Naraku was driving this… and he was finding it most unsettling. 

"Perhaps I should dispense with the formalities. Would you prefer I call you Miroku?"

"What is this about?" Miroku finally spat. He discovered he could talk, but his words were slightly slurred and his voice wasn't very loud. It sounded as if it were being held back in his throat by some unseen hand.  

"Finally. I've gotten you to speak." Naraku narrowed his eyes, grinning evilly at the prone monk. "I was beginning to think you were still so far gone that you couldn't."

Miroku struggled valiantly, but his body refused to move only but a little. Naraku's grin faded to a smirk, and he began to step forward.

"What… do you want!?" Miroku cried out. But he was sure he knew… Naraku was going to kill him. Here and now. 

He wasn't expecting his tormentor to suddenly drop down. He wasn't expecting Naraku sit on his chest, grabbing a fistful of his robe and yanking him up until their faces were merely a hairsbreadth apart. 

"You," he rasped, before taking Miroku in a rough kiss.

-----

Note: Short… well, shorter than the first chapter. Eee… the fun stuff begins. Thanks fer your reviews , folks! Keep 'em coming.  


	3. Submission

Note: Thanks for all the nice reviews! I only do the whole individual thing the first round… but I thank you all! So, without further ado… on-ness to the fic-ness!

That was corny…

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Chapter 3- Submission 

"Few of us have vitality enough to make any of our instincts imperious."

-George Bernard Shaw

---

Inu-Yasha awoke with a pounding headache. He groaned and rolled over- only to find an incredible stiffness in his limbs. He growled in agitation, raising himself up and waiting for his foggy eyes to clear and his surroundings to shape themselves. 

It was still day…. He had a gut feeling not too much time had passed. He stood- and nearly fell as his vision spun, head reeling. He cursed under his breath and tried again, more slowly. 

He felt oddly numb… something was missing. What was wrong with him? The room didn't look any different… he didn't hear anything unusual…

And then he felt it. His sense of smell was entirely gone!

He put his hands to his nose, alarmed, wondering what happened… and he remembered the herbs. Miroku. It didn't take him long to piece two and two together. 

"Miroku… he's in danger…" his ears fell back as it dawned on him.

-.-

"A familiar scent?" 

Sango was sitting by the hanyou with Shippou in her lap and Kaede at her side. Kirara was curled up, alone, peacefully asleep and oblivious.

Inu-Yasha nodded. "I couldn't sense it exactly… it was so faint. But… there's a familiarity to it." He clenched his fist. "Whoever it was… they have Miroku."

Sango looked down. "…we can't just go off without Kagome-"

"But we can't just leave Miroku!"

Sango looked up, surprised at Inu-Yasha's sudden vehemence. He stood, making a fist, his golden eyes flickering dangerously. "Whoever has him knew I'd come after him- they left those herbs, and I'm sure they were left for me."

"Without your nose, you won't be able to track Miroku down," Shippou pointed out. "But Kagome might."

Inu-Yasha paused. "…why Kagome?"

"Well, Miroku is a spiritual man- more or less- right?" Sango began. 

Inu-Yasha nodded slowly. 

"Well, she might be able to sense his powers. It's our best option, until your sense of smell comes back. There's nothing more we can do for him-- he could be anywhere right now."

Inu-Yasha kicked at the ground, flattening his ears in frustration. 

"Inu-Yasha," Sango's tone changed, and he looked up to see her standing. Her eyes had a peculiar, faraway look to them. "I'm just as worried as you are. Believe me."

Inu-Yasha growled under his breath. She was right. 

-.-

_What in all the hells!?_

The first thought than flashed across Miroku's confused and drugged mind was quite Inu-Yasha-esque. He tried to break away, but only succeeded in squirming. 

He didn't have to wait long, for Naraku pulled away just long enough for Miroku to see a flash of his face- gleaming red eyes and a wicked grin. Then the hanyou lowered his head to lightly fang the skin of Miroku's neck. 

"What are you doing!?" Miroku managed to yelp hoarsely, once he remembered how to use his tongue. 

Naraku certainly knew how to do so- if the work on Miroku's neck was anything to judge by. He didn't answer for a moment, tasting and nipping the flesh, reveling in his exercised superiority. "What does it look like, monk?" he purred against Miroku's ear. The monk squirmed, but that just seemed to spur Naraku on. "You're helpless to resist me. You are at my mercy, Miroku."

Miroku's eyes burned fiercely- as well as his cheeks. It might have been the complete wrong time and place to blush, but he simply couldn't help it! His arch-nemesis was straddling his stomach, leaning over his chest and applying the most tantalizing ministrations to his neck that the monk knew the likes of. 

It was far from unpleasant- not that he was enjoying it. 

"Well-"

Naraku suddenly sat up, putting his full weight on Miroku's prone form. "Shut up."

Miroku obliged. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, and then shut it, and repeated the process. Naraku watched with vague amusement. 

"Such pitiful creatures, you humans are." Naraku sat straight, but he didn't untangle his legs from Miroku's side. Rather, he shimmied down, ever so slightly, bringing his weight closer to a very sensitive area of the monk's anatomy. Miroku seemed to notice this, and squirmed again. 

Naraku's eyes widened a bit- and then he smirked. Miroku paused, realizing what he'd just done. Naraku's position- legs splayed completely, wrapping almost entirely around the monk- made the constant struggles Miroku was giving brush up against Naraku's (apparent) arousal. He was bringing Naraku pleasure!

Miroku, for some reason, began to shiver, and glared at Naraku, though an irrational panic was rising rapidly in his chest. 

"I can smell your fear, human," Naraku sneered. "Quite an intoxicating scent."

"What are you planning to do, Naraku?" Miroku hopped his assumption was wrong. This couldn't be right- why would Naraku…?

"Again that question." Naraku let his fingers slide up Miroku's chest, coming to rest at the purple bow that kept his robe secure. "Perhaps I should demonstrate."

In a swift, single motion, he undid the bow, sliding his fingers down under Miroku's robes. His fingers danced lightly over the monk's skin- damp with cold sweat, Naraku noticed with sadistic pleasure- and he allowed them to glide up to Miroku's throat.

Miroku's eyes were wide. His chest heaved; his irrational shaking grew in magnitude. Why couldn't he stop? What did he fear…?

Naraku shifted his weight, and opened the robes, sliding the purple material out on its own. He would have use for that later. 

"I'll break you later. But for now… I plan to have my way with you." He pulled Miroku's robes completely apart (there was a dreadful ripping sound, though Miroku couldn't see what was going on, and certainly couldn't move to get a better vantage, he knew what that meant.)

Naraku shucked the remainder of Miroku's clothing- except for the sheath that kept his Kazaana under control. "Why are you shaking, monk?" Naraku sat back down, letting his long hair fall forward, half-shielding his eyes. 

Miroku didn't answer, but shut his eyes tight. _Please_ don't let this be what it looks like…

As it might be apparent, Miroku as not squeamish when it came to matters of intimate physical contact. But, despite his constant groping of members of the fairer sex, despite the constant enquiries as to whether or not they'd bear his child, despite his perverted and seemingly jaded manner, he'd never actually performed the physical act of love. 

He was a virgin, in short. Miroku seldom let things rattle him… but finding himself in this position with Naraku was disturbing- _wrong_. 

But all thoughts were cut off as Naraku delicately wrapped his hands around Miroku's member. 

The houshi shivered. No. No, no, no.

Naraku smirked wickedly, his blood red eyes narrowed, and he unwrapped his fingers from Miroku. "What's the matter, Miroku? I thought you humans likes this sort of… temptation." 

Miroku began to speak, but before he could utter a word Naraku had gone back to work, absently flicking his tongue over the tip of Miroku's growing (to his horror) erection "N-uhh…" he couldn't stop the strangled groan from arising. 

"What was that?" the hanyou breathed against the wet, sensitive skin. "I didn't quite catch you."

Miroku gritted his teeth, his mind racing with confusion. What the _hell_ was going on!?

Naraku only chuckled and continued to run his tongue along Miroku's length. Miroku's body went taut and he gave small, subtle jerks with each ministration.  At one point, Naraku took as much of Miroku as he could into his mouth, and sucked, lightly running his claws over the tight curve of the monk's ass. 

"Ahh!" Miroku's hips bucked, and he inwardly cursed himself for giving into Naraku. 

At once, his enemy drew away, chuckling. "I see I've gotten through to you." He stood, his eyes hungrily roving Miroku's nude form, and stooped, picking a handful of herbs before lightly breathing on them, and once again pressing them to Miroku's face. "Sleep, once more."

-----

I hope that wasn't too terrible, for mah first… scene… **grabs her hair** I have no beta! Blargh! I do all my own editing. So… a. Review, if you're already not running screaming in the streets. **grins**


	4. Twilight

Note: Bored, bored. **yawns** Oi, thanks for the reviews and offers, folks… but so many people offered to Beta, I couldn't choose just one, and if I ran it through too many people, it might lose it's "me"-ness. I try to give my fics a bit of a personal touch… and besides, what would I use as an excuse for me laziness? XD

And I remember someone making a comment about making this an Inu-Yasha/Miroku fic. I'm not particularly good at shounen-ai… so no, not this fic. ^.^ Inu-Yasha does seem to be a bit more concerned than normal… if you want to count that. But I plan to work on a more innocent piece next.

Here's four, folks… several more of my acquaintances who've read my fics have come to be, disturbed ^.^ Yay! It goes downhill from here!

-----

Chapter 4- Twilight 

"All that spirits desire, spirits attain."

-Kahlil Gibran, _The Poet of Baalbek_

---

Miroku awoke to dimness all around. At first he suspected he was indoors, but upon looking up he saw that it was merely night out, and his position under the trees had blocked the starlight. 

It wasn't full-fledged night. Evening, he could see where the sky lightened slightly to what must have been the east. Or… was it morning? He couldn't have known how long he'd been out. 

He tried moving himself. His limbs were sluggish, and his breathing was labored. He felt drained, and it was hard to stir. Only a thin white sheet covered him… Naraku, apparently, had taken his clothes. 

He remembered the events of the previous day and shuddered. He managed to shift to a sitting position, and the sheet fell down about his waist, exposing his bare chest and stomach. The sudden shock of cold air caused him to jerk against the tree bark behind him. 

"You humans must love your sleep," Naraku's voice breathed amusedly into the monk's ear from behind. Miroku jumped, but Naraku was in front of him before he could even try to stand. His face was shadowed fetchingly in the dark half-light, and his eyes caught what little luminance there was, reflecting it twofold. 

Miroku only glared in reply. 

"You slept all day. That's just as well… you'll need your energy," The hanyou moved uncomfortably close, his face inches from Miroku's. 

"Don't touch me," Miroku snarled. 

Naraku defied him immediately, reaching up to lightly stroke the side of Miroku's face. His touch sent a tingle down the back of Miroku's neck, causing the hairs there to rise. "Don't tell me what to do, Miroku. You are at my mercy. You will do as I command."

"No." Miroku said flatly. 

Naraku's eyes flashed, and his hand moved down to the side of Miroku's neck. His fingers brushed over the sensitive skin, and Miroku gave an involuntarily shiver. "You can deny me all you want. I can bend you to my will. All humans can be manipu-"

"_Go to hell, Naraku_!" Miroku shouted with sudden vehemence, his eyes glowering.

Naraku paused for only a split second- and then his grip on the monk's neck tightened painfully and he pressed Miroku up against the back of the tree, hissing lowly in his throat. Miroku choked and coughed, but did not gasp for breath, did not show any weakness. His face began to flush, and he shut his eyes. Soon, the flush deepened, and his mouth began to make subtle, desperate movements.

He needed air!

Naraku tightened his grip. Miroku made a small, unintelligible noise, his body jerking violently. 

At the last possible moment before unconsciousness, Naraku released him, and Miroku fell limply back, gasping and sputtering for breath. Air entered his lungs painfully, and he shut his eyes against the searing flames spreading through his body with every breath. 

"You'll need to learn to submit, monk," Naraku's voice was hard and harsh. He sank his claws into Miroku's shoulder, grabbing him and forcing him down to the ground, face-up. Miroku hadn't the strength to fight back- and he was still trying to catch his breath. Naraku wasn't making it any easier, with his weight on Miroku's chest. 

For a while, Naraku only watched him. Then finally, once he thought Miroku had gained almost all of his breath, he shimmied down the monk's hips once more.

Miroku hadn't noticed- his lungs ached with every breath and his limbs were shaking. Dammit. He'd pushed his luck again, hadn't he? 

Naraku leaned down, suddenly pulling back the sheet and taking Miroku's full length into his mouth. 

The sensation hit the unsuspecting Miroku like a brick wall. "AH!" he arched, digging his fingernails into the earth. What… the…? He only managed to raise his head enough to see what Naraku was doing. 

Naraku inwardly smiled, and sucked, lightly running his fingers over the sensitive flesh at the monk's inner thighs. 

"Nngh," Miroku managed to raise his hand, biting into his knuckle to keep from crying out. Electric shocks of pleasure raced up and down his spine, leaving tingling traces in their wake. This was so wrong… but it felt so _good_…

Naraku slid his mouth slowly up his shaft, pausing slightly at the head to apply the most delicate of pressures with his teeth. Miroku's back stiffened and he made a tiny, whimpering noise. Naraku did not bother to hide his grin. 

He rose up and moved forward until he had his hands on either side of the monk's face, and dipped down, grabbing his wrist from Miroku's mouth. "You like that…?" he asked. Miroku noticed, with some curiosity, that Naraku seemed oddly breathless. 

Miroku glared weakly, for he felt both exhausted and exhilarated at the same time, and he was sorely confused. 

Naraku took his hand and slid one of the fingers into his mouth, sucking lightly. Miroku stared back at him, his face a mixture of expression. Naraku allowed his mouth to glide up, and he nibbled the tip, flicking his tongue over it and grinning. 

This whole time, his other hand had glided slowly down over Miroku's bared form, creeping inexorably towards the junction of the monks thighs. Now, as it reached its destination, it wrapped around the semi-rigid member. 

Miroku drew his breath in sharply, and Naraku took another finger in his mouth, closing his eyes and concentrating on the careful movements of his fingers. Slowly, he moved his closed hand up and down, stroking the sensitive flesh and thumbing the tip. Miroku's entire body gave a single spasm.

"Ohh…" once again, Miroku furiously cursed himself. 

Naraku suddenly moved violently, sucking hard on Miroku' s finger and pumping the monk's erection with his fist at an accelerated, blindingly pleasurable rate. 

Miroku's back arched and he gave a broken cry- he had succumbed. His body went completely limp and his face burning with shame. Naraku bent down and claimed his prey's mouth, roughly sliding his tongue into the hot depths. Miroku was too lost to offer resistance, and Naraku pulled him sharply up. 

Miroku choked his moans in his throat- it was already painful enough that Naraku had snuffed his spirit. He managed to keep relatively silent and still, but he couldn't stop himself from giving a mighty thrash when his body caved in and he came, emptying himself over Naraku's hand. 

He fell back, suddenly even more exhausted then he initially had been. 

"Such a weak resistance," Naraku said, half scornfully, half amusedly. 

Miroku looked away, hanging limp in Naraku's grasp. 

"I certainly hope you're not too tired," the hanyou purred. "You'll need your energy… for tonight…" he lay Miroku back down, and stepped back, fading into the shadows. 

The monk lay on the ground, his chest still heaving. Above him, in the sky, he could see tiny pinpricks of brilliant light… and father to the north, a glowing orb hung in the velvet cloak of night like a medallion. 

The full moon had risen. 

-----

Note: Short, short chapter. I'll make up for it later, I promise. Keep those lovely reviews coming, and thanks for all your support, folks!


	5. Shattered

Note: 8*sniff** I lurve you guys so much. Thanks for all the positive reviews and whatnot, it's vurra nice. 

First of al… GOMENASAI! My computer monitor was broke. For a long time. Drove me crazy. I was all… gottawritegottawrite… my dad let me use his laptop. Once. But the keys are weird and I made forty typos every two seconds so I gave up. 'Sides, I wouldn't've gotten anything done. 

Is wouldn't've a word!?

Porlly not. Well, I've been drowned in romantic mush for a week. **grumpy stare** Damn Romeo and Juliet… Damn Valentine's day. I need pain and torture. 

So I write ^^

-----

Chapter 5- Shattered 

"O happy dagger! 

This is thy sheath; there rest, and let me die."

-William Shakespeare, _The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet_

---

            Miroku had fallen asleep.

            Naraku watched him as he slumbered, a faintly annoyed expression on his face. Even as he watched the monk, he felt a stirring inside him- the arousal of his own desires. He had awaken that deeply repressed side of him- Onigumo- and an even more deeply repressed urge was pulsing through his veins. 

Until now, he had been simply pleasuring his victim- not out of affection or of any feeling but vehemence towards him- but simply to exercise and hold his authority over the monk. Of course, putting him through so much mental anguish and inner turmoil was a nice side effect. 

Naraku chuckled darkly. He was in control. Miroku knew that. After all, how could Miroku resist when he couldn't even control his own body? But, then again, he'd managed to, if not stop himself from succumbing, retain some of his dignity. He had resisted with all his might…

That could not be allowed to happen again. Naraku stood. He'd have to fetch some supplies… but now he would break that monk. Then he would have his way with him. 

Tonight, Miroku would writhe. Tonight… the monk would cry for him.

-.-

Inu-Yasha was a hard hanyou to control, once he had his mind stuck on something. He roamed the nearby forests, much to Sango and Shippou's protests, and even considered going down the well to fetch Kagome. He tried- but was stopped due to a very prominent law of physics.

Giant two-tailed cat youkai run fast and pounce hard. Likewise, they are heavier than hanyous. 

Finally, Inu-Yasha conceded to wait- but he made no effort to conceal his worry and agitation. He still prowled the forest near the village, and tried vainly to regain somewhat his sense of smell, but the herbs were strong, and clung to him like a heavy fog on a cold night. 

It was night now. Sango had dropped off to sleep. Inu-Yasha looked to her. He could tell she was probably twice as worried as he was… but she was a rational, logical thinker. Poor girl- she couldn't help but be tactful, for she was raised that way. Shippou… well, since when had Inu-Yasha understood Shippou?

He stood now, looking at the newly-risen full moon. He was sick of waiting. He looked around, wary of Kirara. 

She was asleep, curled up at Sango's side. 

The hanyou wasted no more time; he turned and bolted off, straight through the forest. Leaf litter and loam flew under his feet, and he leaped with great agility from one side to the other, dodging trees and vaulting from hills. Every step was one fueled by blind desperation- a desperation to save his friend. 

He felt a choking in his throat. Miroku…

-.-

At that moment, the aforementioned Houshi slowly opened his eyes, and then closed them again, cringing. 

He remembered. 

He sat up, shaking a bit. Naraku's white baboon pelt had been draped over him, shielding him from twilight's chill. He brushed it off disgustedly, rather being exposed than touched by _that_. His shudders deepened and he looked around. No sign of Naraku. Miroku stood up, looking around for his clothes when he heard an all-too-familiar voice. 

"What ails you? Are you _that_ susceptible to this cold, monk?"

Miroku spun, facing Naraku. He was shaking now with suppressed rage- or was it fear? He seemed to have lost the ability to distinguish between the two…

"It seems you are." Naraku's crimson gaze narrowed ever so slightly. "How boring." He paused. "You'll need some warming up."

Miroku opened his mouth to speak, but only a choked growl of rage came forth. He didn't look hardly menacing- standing there in the pale moonlight without a stitch of clothing. Rather, to Naraku, the blaze in his eyes, combined with the aforementioned elements, appeared quite seductive. 

The hanyou stepped forward- the human backed away. Naraku smiled. "Still resisting me?" he had scarcely finished those words when Miroku spoke, his voice low with menace. 

"Go to hell."

Naraku shook in withheld laughter. Eventually, it came out as a low, ominous sound that caused Miroku to involuntarily shudder. "No… you'll be the one going to hell tonight."

Miroku's eyes narrowed further, though he hadn't stopped shaking. 

"Or… perhaps heaven."

Naraku made no move towards the human; he merely set something he'd been carrying down upon the ground. It was a makeshift sack, and as he opened it, Miroku saw his robes. Naraku threw them at the monk. 

"Get dressed."

Miroku took his clothes, carefully feeling and sniffing them to make sure nothing was amiss. Then he gratefully slid them on, tying the bow with the usual care and then looking to Naraku, who was leaning against a tree, waiting. 

"You seem to obey well enough to my commands…" Naraku smirked. "Sit down."

Miroku glared defiantly, but did as he was told, eager to avoid further… "punishment." 

Naraku stood again, and circled Miroku. "…Now stand up." Miroku obeyed. 

'_What's he up to_?' Miroku eyes him suspiciously from the corner of his eye. Naraku seemed to be checking him out, viewing all aspects of his clothed self before… before what? "…what are you doing?"

"Be quiet." Naraku snapped. 

"What are you up to?" Miroku repeated, this time with more force. He wasn't going down without a fight. 

That was just what Naraku wanted… defiance. A reason to break the human. He felt triumph and anticipation rise within. He'd stalled long enough- testing the monk's patience… and soon he would strike back. Soon… but first…

"Why do you even bother, Miroku? Do you honestly think they'll come?"

Miroku's fierce expression faltered. "…who?"

"Your comrades. You're putting faith in them, fueled by empty promises. Inu-Yasha… do you think he'll try to save you?"

Miroku's anger flared up again. "I don't see why not."

"You've been nothing but a burden to them from the start." Naraku was moving in for the kill. He's spent the last hour or so gaining knowledge on the houshi, and now he was going to use it. "Even you met them by causing them trouble. You brought along with you a curse, playing solely on their sympathies to keep you for the journey. Though you are useful, you're still a frail, fragile human, easily manipulated, easily filled with mistrust and hate." He went on, and even though Miroku put a brave façade, he could see his poison working through the monk already. 

"It's surprising they haven't gotten rid of you sooner. No doubt your absence is quite a relief. You're nothing but a waste, with your pathetically short life and your petty preoccupation with the opposite sex."

Finally, he stopped. Miroku stood there; staring forward, but blankly… then he lowered his head. It seemed to make sense. Sango's constant rejection of him… Inu-Yasha's short, brash manner…could Naraku be right?

No. It was a lie. A trap.

"That's not true," he said quietly. 

"Which part?" Naraku goaded him. 

"_All of it_!" Miroku looked up to him, his orchid eyes blazing in passionate fury, so fiery that Naraku gave a slight shudder- not of fear, but of desire. "My comrades do not see me the way you claim they do! How could you know what it is to be a part of such a group!?" he stepped forward slightly. "And I may be a mere mortal, but I am _not_ weak, and I am _not _easily manipulated-"

The line Naraku was waiting for. The hanyou moved with speed that defied the eye, elbowing Miroku sharply in the chest even before he had stopped running, knocking the breath out of him. 

Miroku fell to the ground, and Naraku came after him, lowered on his hands and knees, straddling his stomach. "We shall see about that," he breathed lowly. 

-.-

Mrs. Higurashi was quite glad to have Kagome back. Her daughter had gone on an outing with her friends to celebrate the passing of her latest exam. She smiled to remember Kagome bursting through the door after school, crying out jubilantly… and thoroughly scaring the cat. It was Mrs. Higurashi who had suggested they go see a movie to celebrate.

 Souta had declined to join them, and now he was simply lazing about at home, flopped on the couch. 

She was in the middle of cooking a particularly nice dinner when she heard a scratch at the door. "Buyo?" she trotted over, opening the screen, and sure enough the heavyset cat waddled right in. "Why are you coming in so early?" she slowly slid the screen shut. "Usually you wait-"

"_WHERE'S KAGOME_!?"

The screen door nearly shattered under the force of Inu-Yasha's entrance. The screen rattled in it s frame, and there was Inu-Yasha himself, in all his worried glory. The hanyou looked slightly winded, and urgency shone in his bright golden eyes. 

"P-Pardon!?" Mrs. Higurashi was flustered. 

"Hey, Inu-Yasha!" Souta called, running into the room and skidding slightly in his socked feet. "What's the matter?"

"I need to find Kagome," he hurriedly explained. "It could be a matter of life or death!"

"Sh-she's at the movies. The older Tokyo Cinema on Sakura Street…"

"Where!?" Inu-Yasha's ears fell visibly back in surprise. 

"I know the way," Souta piped. "It's right down-"

"No time to explain!" Inu-Yasha scooped the boy up. "I'll be right back!" and he sped off, leaving an even more flustered Mrs. Higurashi. She stood there, eyes wide and blank, until Buyo nudged her leg and she looked down. 

"No wonder Kagome comes home whenever she can…"

"Neow."

-.-

Naraku grabbed Miroku by the shoulders and threw him roughly against the side of a broad tree. "First… some assurance."

He yanked the purple material of Miroku's robe free, forcefully removing the rest of his clothes once more. He bent down, pinning Miroku's arms with his hands as he tasted the flesh uncovered into the night air, worrying it with his lips and tongue. 

Miroku struggled beneath him. 

Naraku made care not to hurt him, and rose up slightly, still holding him to the ground. Grabbing part of the purple material between his teeth, he ripped it in half, discarding one section to the side while holding the rest in his fangs, baring them in an almost sensual manner. 

He grabbed Miroku's wrists, forcing them above his head. He brought them together between a half-upturned root on the ground, and wrapped them tightly against one another with the purple cloth. He tied them snug, so the monk couldn't part them, but not enough to hurt. 

Miroku pulled against the root, but it curved above the ground only for a short period, and both sections were anchored in feet of earth. He growled.  Naraku wasn't finished. 

He looped the other section of cloth about Miroku's neck, forming a rough collar. Tying it securely, he pulled sharply on the slack, forcing Miroku to face him. 

He said nothing. Finally, he grinned, still silent, and shoved the monk back down.

After clearing the space, he effortlessly spread Miroku's legs- though the monk fought him; Naraku was a great deal stronger. Naraku settled his hands on Miroku's thighs, looking up. 

Miroku had turned his face away and shut his eyes tight, quivering slightly. He was afraid. Naraku inhaled deeply. The scent of the moist earth and the sharp pang of fear, mingled with the heady fragrance of Miroku's exposed flesh formed quite the aphrodisiac. Needing no further goading, he once again lowered his head, tasting the flesh of Miroku's manhood. 

Miroku's body tensed, and he bit back a groan. Naraku took his gradually stiffening member into his mouth, sliding his tongue over it and drawing away, gently blowing on the wet skin. 

"Ngh," Miroku's hips twitched. 

"Don't fight it," Naraku ran a finger slowly up the side, nipping the tip lightly, dipping his tongue briefly over the tiniest of holes there. "Succumb. It's in your nature…" he licked the underside, moving at an agonizingly slow pace. 

Miroku's chest began to heave. How inviting. 

Naraku slithered up Miroku's body, once again straddling the monk's waist. He leaned down, lightly kissing the bare, smooth skin of the chest before moving to his left nipple and gently taking it between his teeth. 

"Ah…" Miroku's gasped, startled. 

Naraku grinned against him, goading the nub into hardness with his lips and tongue, and then sucking deliciously while tweaking the other beneath his fingers. He could feel Miroku's heartbeat beneath him… racing…

Miroku's entire spine gave a minute spasm. The human was trying to control his own body… Naraku would make sure that wouldn't happen. 

He allowed his remaining hand to slither slowly over Miroku's abdomen, stopping the grip Miroku's now-erect member. He bid his fingers to drift up and down the length, sucking on Miroku's nipple as the friction between the heated skin and his hand left fiery traces of burning pleasure. 

Miroku's back arched, and he gave a small, unintelligible sound. "Unh…"

Naraku raised himself up with one hand, still gripping Miroku in the other. Slowly, he drew the second hand away, and Miroku's hips raised, straining for his. His legs spread wider, as if begging for attention to the burning center of his lust.

Naraku grinned darkly in victory, and Miroku looked away, closing his eyes in shame. 

"…" Naraku suddenly pulled to the side, reaching for the bag that had remained where it was dropped, not far away. He pulled out the last item he was looking for- a small bottle, filled with a murky orangeish liquid. 

Miroku ventured to open his eyes a bit, confused by the pause. 

Naraku popped the cork that secured the bottle off, and slid a finger easily down the wide neck of the bottle. He drew it out, staring down at Miroku, and slid back down again. 

"Wh…what're you…" Miroku tried to rise up, But Naraku forced him back down. He complied, and the hanyou spread his legs even farther, grinning when he found no resistance. He curled his now-slick finger… and then slid it inside of the monk. 

Miroku jerked, at first, in pure shock and his eyes widened at this new indignity… and then as Naraku probed further, his spine gave a jerk, and his face bore one of utter surprise. 

"There," Naraku muttered casually, as he roughly stroked the monk's sweet spot. 

Miroku's back arched, and he gave a low, delicious moan. "Ohhh…" 

Naraku chuckled, sliding another finger inside. "You like that, eh?"

Miroku's breath was coming short, and he gave another throaty groan.

Naraku began to pump the digits in and out, starting slowly at first, reveling in the pain of submission in Miroku's eyes, and then moving faster as the monk's body responded to him like an instrument to a musician. He worked him faster, and Miroku's hips rose to meet his fingers. 

"Ahhh…" Miroku shook with desire. Pleasure thrummed through his systems, leaving him wanting- no, needing- more.

Naraku suddenly pulled his fingers out. Miroku twitched, straining towards him and giving a low whimpering noise. 

"You want more?" Naraku grinned as he allowed his own kimono to slide from his shoulders. Miroku closed his eyes again, gritting his teeth and looking away. 

Naraku soon undressed himself, though Miroku did not see, for his had buried his face in his arm in shame. The hanyou emptied the contents of the bottle onto his hands, applying it thickly onto his own member before wiping his hands on his discarded clothing. 

"Miroku…" he once again moved up the houshi, holding him ready. "Cry out for me."

And then he thrust his hips forward, forcefully entering the monk. 

Miroku's body reacted with equal violence, his eyes wide. There was a small shock of pain, followed by a stretching feeling… and the Naraku grunted, moving inside him in smooth, powerful strokes. 

"_Ahh_!" Miroku cried, fighting against his bonds. Naraku gripped the slack of his cloth collar, drawing him into a crushing kiss. 

He was met with no resistance. The hanyou slithered his tongue into the sweet heat of Miroku's mouth, furiously moving his lips against Miroku's. Yes. _Yesss…_

With his mind clouded by the blinding, mind-blowing pleasure… Miroku responded. His tongue hesitantly entered Naraku's mouth, and soon his own jaws were working against Naraku's furiously. The hanyou gave a groan of triumph, and broke away for a breath, still thrusting, now raggedly panting. "Say… my name," he growled, testing the limits of his authority. 

"_Naraku_!" Miroku cried brokenly. His hips thrust in time with Naraku's strokes, his entire body was at Naraku's control. "_Ahhh_!"

Naraku drove him harder, provoking further shouts from Miroku, who writhed beneath him, screaming like a mindless animal. Suddenly, Naraku felt a force explode in the back of his head, and mind-numbing ecstasy of which the likes he had never known rushed through every sinew and muscle of his body. He gave a wordless cry, which was followed closely by another howl from the monk beneath him. 

Naraku felt himself release, and Miroku did the same. Gasping, the monk fell back as a warm bliss gripped him. For a split second, he reveled in it- the felt of a warm body against his… the soft earth beneath him. It was a utopia. An all-consuming feeling of utter splendor…

Nirvana. 

-----

Note: Weee! I had entirely too much fun writing that! XD


	6. Defile

Note: 46 Reviews! OO I am blown away… and also very, very sorry for the delay, folks. It's a long, wacky story… with school closing up, and all that and whatnot -.-;

Thank… you …so…much1 I can't relay how grateful I am for all the positive feedback! My poor hotmail was all: "Hi, Cy! You have about forty-eight new emails!"  
Even though MSN dun talk… and I don't have it… but anyway. Blah. Ignore me rant. I'm wrapping this fic up, hopefully, soon. Then I'll move on. 

I dun know what series. Trigun, most likely… or One Piece. Shaman King! Ee! RenHoro!

Oh, and to answer a question… that orange stuff was lube. Ya no, to ease the way in… ^^; er, I hope I don't have to end up going into detail. Well, as if _I'd_ be bashful…

There's, of course, more Naraku/Miroku action, and actually… a canon hinting! Inu/Kagome, because I love that pairing. I also love Inu/Miroku, but that's another story ^.^ Anyway, I like Kagome. Blah. So eat me liver.

Anywaayyy… let's go!

-----  
**Chapter 6- Defile**

"It is a revenge the devil sometimes takes upon the virtuous, that he entraps them by the force of the very passion they have suppressed and think themselves superior to." – George Santayana****

---

Dawn broke cold that day. It was as if the very sun was loath to reveal the sight of Miroku, exhausted and lying back on the soft moss, his hair, for the most part, unbound. Naraku had thrown his robe over him, offering some meager covering against the chilly morning air. Fog crept in thick tendrils across the forest floor, and the monk shivered into awareness. 

Her closed his eyes again, willing sleep to return to him. It did not come. With a sigh, he sat up, trying to draw his robe about him, but it was ripped… and soiled. He would have flung it away, but it was the only source of warmth he had right now. With grim resignation, he pulled it tightly around himself as a makeshift blanket.  

He closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of the fabric. It smelled of soil and incense, of dust and long mornings seated before his master Mushin, reciting prayers to a monk that couldn't even remember them himself. Miroku dared to smile. Those days… with little a worry or care. Back then, even the enormity of his Kazaana hadn't dawned fully on him yet… 

Naraku was watching, from high above, seated on the sturdy branches of the very tree that Miroku was leaning on. His soft baboon pelt was flung carelessly over his slim, firm form- other than that, he wore no clothing. His crimson eyes were half-closed- he was more than a little tired after last night's escapade. It had been a long, long time since he had done anything like _that_. 

He smirked as Miroku smiled, feeling an instant urge to quell that small happiness he could sense within the monk. How could he cause more pain? He'd made Miroku surrender to him, which was far more traumatizing than taking him by force. It planted the seed of doubt- eventually, Miroku might fully surrender himself to Naraku…

Then what? Naraku tilted his head. He doubted Miroku would turn on his companions- he'd rather die. And killing Miroku would prove to be too easy. He couldn't think of any immediate use for the monk- he'd have to cross that bridge when he came to it.

A movement out in the forest caught his eye, breaking his thoughts. He crouched, peering through the shuffling leaves. What could it be…?

It didn't take him long to discern the figure.

Inu-Yasha.

-.-

Kagome had long since dismounted from the hanyou's back, and now sagged visibly with fatigue. They'd both been out the rest of the night, spurred on by a fierce determination to safely find their friend. 

Inu-Yasha glanced at Kagome. She was tough; he'd give her that. He couldn't resist a smirk as he watched. She hadn't complained or even made the slightest hint that she might be tired- despite that, he could sense that her strength was flagging. For once, though, Inu-Yasha was glad that Kagome was so stubborn. 

"I think we've been here before," she said decisively. "I remember that tree."

"…Kagome, there are probably a hundred trees that look like that one…" 

"No, really, I know that one." She looked to him. "We should move…" she pointed to her left. "That way."

"Towards the rising sun. Okay." Inu-Yasha sighed. She was still her old self- always right, always in charge.

Kagome started, looking to the sky. The sun had already risen… what would poor Sango think?

"We should split up," she said abruptly, looking to Inu-Yasha. 

"...I don't know," Inu-Yasha said. 

"Look, if you're worried about me-"

"I'm not worried about you!" Inu-Yasha snorted. "It's just that… separated, we'd be vulnerable. Wolves in a pack can take down full grown horses. But a wolf alone gets trampled."

Kagome almost facefaulted. Another tidbit of Feudal Age dog-boy wisdom… "Inu-Yasha. Do you want to find Miroku or not?"

She was surprised at the quiet tone of his voice as he spoke again. "…yeah."

"Alright. We split up!" and without further ado, the miko from the future sped off eastwards. Inu-Yasha flicked an ear, unsure whether to be annoyed or grateful, and turned, trotting down towards the west.   
   

-.-

"Good morning," a voice purred in Miroku's ear, alarmingly close.

Miroku jumped, looking around, daydreams still clinging to his mind… the alarming proximity of Naraku's deviously fine-featured face brought him into full awareness, and he drew away, disgusted. 

The hanyou was leaning in a way so that his baboon pelt hung loosely over his back and one leg, leaving the other exposed up quite near the hip. It was hard for Miroku not to notice that creamy curve of the flawless skin, the graceful shape of the limb…

He cringed, feeling more soiled than ever, and looked away. 

Naraku had seen the whole thing. "Cannot fight your primal desires, can you, human?" he leaned back, allowing the pelt to fall over his leg. "Much like last night."

Miroku opened his eyes, and then closed them again, trembling a little. He felt vaguely nauseous- had he… really…?

"I remember you," Naraku said in a low, seductive tone. "Writhing in the most carnal form of pleasure, and the way you screamed my name, when I commanded," he sighed. "Such a sweet, blissful surrender, don't you agree?" he grinned cruelly. 

Miroku drew his robe tighter around himself. Never again. He'd never let anything like this happen again. If he survived… somehow, he felt Naraku wasn't going to do this and let him die right after suffering. No, he'd want this to drag on, eating him away inside. 

There was a long pause, and Naraku smiled, readying himself for the kill. 

"Your friends have come for you."

Miroku looked up, realization striking him.  "…what?" it took a moment for the words to actually hit home. He felt a stirring within his chest. They _were_ looking for him…

"I wonder what they'll think when they find out what you've done. Surrendered to me…" Naraku's eyes glinted. "Will they even _want_ to have rescued you?"

Miroku jerked. Could he be right…? No. Of course not- this was Naraku, the master of manipulation. He was lying, trying to break Miroku's spirit. He felt another stirring- but this one of anger. How dare Naraku try to turn his own feelings against him?! He glared back at the hanyou, defiance dancing in those beautiful violet eyes. 

"You're lying." He snarled. "You might as well, give up; I know they'd never abandon me, even if they did know about… about…" his voice faltered. "…last night. They're not like you, Naraku. Not like normal people, either." His voice grew bolder, triumph showed in his features. "And no matter what you do to me, I know they'll take me as I am."

Naraku only smirked. Time to switch tactics. 

He didn't speak for a long while, only looked out through the forest. The protected clearing he had imprisoned Miroku in was a beautiful place- even more so in the soft dawn light. He watched the ferns sway in a seemingly nonexistent breeze, the leaves shake themselves two and fro, as if driving off the last vestiges of sleep.

"So loyal. It would be a shame if something should… happen to either one of them," he smiled. 

Miroku's eyes flashed. "…"

"Especially that human girl, Kagome… so defenseless. Inu-Yasha would be all too easy to dispose of. But Kagome… ah, I'd have some fun with her before I let her die," he looked to Miroku, his gaze boring right through the monk's brain. "If you know what I am insinuating…"

"You… you wouldn't…" 

"I would, and you know it," Naraku allowed his long lashes to hide his eyes. "Unless properly persuaded, that is."

"What do you want?" Miroku tensed. 

"Your ultimate surrender."

"You already have that. Remember? You… what you did last night. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"I want more, Miroku. Much, much more." Naraku knelt before him. "I want you to do me the favor I did for you last night."

Miroku was speechless, his jaw slack as he stared at Naraku. He didn't mean… he _could not _mean…

"_I_… want _you_…" he leaned forward, his face only inches from his helpless victim's. "To take me."

Fury rose in Miroku's heart, and he tensed himself, ready to strike out at the hanyou. Before he could move, Naraku spoke again. "You have two choices. Either you comply, or I will prove true to my word. I will have my way with your lady friend, while you watch." He shrugged. "It makes no matter to me. Think about it."

He stood, looking to the sky. "But first, I need to feed you- you cannot be expected to perform on an empty stomach…" he paused. "That is, if you will comply…"

Miroku bowed his head, shaking. This wasn't happening. He had to convince himself of that. But still… lady Kagome… the though of her being violated at Naraku's hands brought him reeling back into reality. "Alright." He croaked. 

"As expected." Naraku leaned forward, languidly licking Miroku's cheek. The monk jerked, but did not pull away. "I shall return shortly."

-.-

Inu-Yasha and Kagome ran into each other- literally- only half an hour after they'd split up. 

"Dammit!" Inu-Yasha cursed, glaring out at the forest. "We're not making any progress… and Sango'll be awake soon."

Kagome picked up on what he was thinking. "…maybe… we should go back? I mean, if she wakes up, she might come looking for him to, and we kinda need to stick together, if Naraku _is_ behind all of this…"

"He is. Trust me." The hanyou's brilliantly golden eyes narrowed. He had no idea what kind of sick things Naraku would do to Miroku, but if they ever wanted to see their friend alive again, they'd need to find him. 

And, like he mentioned before, if they were divided, they'd never stand a chance. 

"Right. Let's go." The hanyou offered Kagome his back, and soon the duo was speeding back in the direction of the village. 

-.-

Miroku was staring at his hand. 

The delicate purple sheath had remained on it even through all of Naraku's torture. He wasn't supposed to take it off yet- according to Mushin's directions, doing so would only prove fatal. 

But if he was to die… he'd like to take Naraku with him. 

The monk shuddered. He was beginning to prefer death over… what he was about to do. He knew very well if he unleashed the Kazaana… he might destroy Naraku. If he failed, he would die- he new that much. Despite the fun the hanyou was having, he was sure Naraku wouldn't keep a dangerous plaything around for long. 

And then he'd go after the others…

Miroku shook his head. No. If he was going to take Naraku down, he'd have to do it without fail. Perfectly. And, in a forest, where even a single shrub or tree could be the final undoing of the Kazaana, he couldn't be one hundred percent sure of a victory. 

And his friend's lives… he valued them too much to go on anything other than a hundred percent. 

"You're certainly quiet."

Miroku twitched. Naraku was back. 

He didn't look up, but he couldn't avoid the pile of food Naraku dumped in his lap- loosely wrapped in the purple cloth from Miroku's robe. The one Naraku had used for a collar, after ripping it in two. 

Miroku couldn't help but give a wry grin. So one half was to be used to bind him, and the other used for a knapsack. He unfolded it- inside were a variety of fruits, a hunk of meat, and some edible herbs. 

Miroku hadn't eaten in nearly two days- he dug into the provisions hungrily, though still retained his dignity. He wasn't provided with chopsticks, so he ate as neatly at he could with his hands. 

Naraku watched him carefully. He felt a strange sense of… he didn't know what. He was seeing just how frail this human was. A few days without food, and he had become ravenous. Pleasure was evident in those intoxicatingly violet eyes… odd. Simply consuming food could bring such bliss to a human. 

Naraku suspected it would be harder to keep a human alive than to simply kill it. He reached to his side, pulling out a goatskin of water, and tossing it to Miroku, who drank deeply. 

Naraku cocked a brow. He was even more thirsty than he was hungry!

Miroku drained the entire skin, gasping when he had done so. Naraku took it, surprised when he discovered that it was completely empty, and stared at Miroku. 

"Thirsty, were you?"

Miroku did not say anything or look to him. "…"

"Come now, surely you haven't decided to become a mute?"

"…"

Naraku chuckled, watching Miroku. "Are you ready, monk?"

"Yes." Miroku said flatly, pushing the remains of his breakfast aside, still not looking up. Inwardly he was screaming in rage, but he wouldn't give Naraku the satisfaction of seeing him angry. Or scared.

He was going to turn the tables. He was going to scare Naraku shitless. 

Naraku leaned forward, his face nearly touching the monk's. "I might consider releasing you, if you beg."

Miroku stared back, lifting his gaze. 

Naraku paused, uncertain- there was a fire in those eyes-

-and Miroku leaned forward, violently and suddenly kissing Naraku. The hanyou was taken aback- but quite pleased. Miroku roughly gripped the sides of Naraku's face, deepening the kiss by forcing his tongue into the other man's surprisingly soft, inviting mouth. Naraku responded with vigor, and for a moment both men seemed to actually be enjoying themselves, their tongues writhing wetly against one another. 

Miroku finally drew away, breathing raggedly. He might lose his nerve is he didn't react in the heat of the moment. He couldn't think; he had to react on the primal level. 

He forced the hanyou back, biting down deeply on the small of Naraku's neck. Naraku made a small, surprised noise- people weren't supposed to bite, and he was fairly sure Miroku wasn't part youkai. 

He certainly wasn't complaining, however. Miroku moved to his neck, lightly nipping, sucking the skin there. "Mmm…" Naraku purred, enjoying this treatment. 

The monk drew up, his eyes shut tight, trying desperately not to think. He shifted, straddling Naraku's legs, and pulling down the soft baboon pelt. 

Naraku had gone completely submissive under Miroku's touch. He watched with half-lidded eyes as Miroku pulled off the rest of his clothing.

Miroku paused, drawing back. Naraku could see the monk would need a little encouragement. He leaned forward, cupping between the priest's legs, masagging gently. Miroku's eyes shot open, and he gave a small gasp. 

Naraku almost lost control at that point- he would have happily deigned to simply flattening Miroku to the forest floor and fucking him brainless- but he had a plan, and he needed to stick to it. 

He pulled away, and Miroku moved on- whether it was awareness to get this over with, fear, or both that propelled the priest, Naraku couldn't tell. He was soon to discover that neither had provided the driving force. 

Miroku dipped down, latching into a single nipple and sucking. Naraku made a sharp, surprised sound- which was replaced by a quite pleased one as the monk bit down gently. 

He'd _turned Miroku on_!

Miroku leaned into him, and Naraku fell back. The monk slid forward, now straddling Naraku's waist, grinding his hips against the hanyou's evident arousal. Naraku groaned, fighting the urge to go limp, to allow his eyes to slide shut… he didn't want to expose himself, didn't want to appear to vulnerable. 

Mirok pulled the baboon pelt down, now completely lost in the heat of the moment, moving to lock and suck the flat plane of Naraku's stomach. His clumsy, desperate motions were proving to be Naraku's undoing- he was steadily losing his self-control, slowly giving in to the raging wants of his body-

-Miroku yanked Naraku's covering down fully, dipping down. He gripped the base of the hanyou's erection with one hand, and engulfed the flared head in his mouth. 

Naraku cried out, his hips rising clear off the gorund. Miroku gagged, choking, but sucked still, reveling in Naraku's strangled gasps of ecstasy. 

Any other time, Miroku might have taken this opportunity to attack- but at this point that was the last thing on his mind. He drew back, now unsure of what to do next, staring at Naraku with wide, lust-darkened eyes.

"What now?" Miroku finally queried in a small voice, though his chest was heaving, 

Naraku growled. "I'm.. going to have my way with you. Right now. Alright?"

"…alright." Miroku said, sitting back. Naraku watched- his body shaking in carnal pleasure- as the monk leaned back, spreading his legs.

The last two sentences- Naraku would later realize- were the strangest exchange that had ever occurred between them. In a trice Naraku had stripped Miroku down, and the hanyou was soon fumbling for the lubricant. 

Miroku watched him, his only thoughts on the burning hardness between his legs. It was nearly painful- he wanted release so _much_, even if it was from his most loathed of enemies, Naraku…

Naraku leaned forward, having finished with the preparations to his own member, and now cupped Miroku's backside, sliding a single finger past the tight ring of muscle he found there. 

"Uhhngh," Miroku groaned throatily, his entire body shaking and twitching. 

Naraku delved another slender finger inside, and Miroku writhed, positively begging for more simply with the motions of his body. His chin was slightly lifted, caught between bliss and aggressive desire, his face flushed deeply, those haunting eyes shut tightly. 

Naraku worked the monk further, and Miroku spasmed and arched, giving a guttural shout. 

That was as much as Naraku could take. Naraku positioned himself above the monk-

-Miroku flipped him over with surprising strength, forcing Naraku's legs apart. Before Naraku could react, Miroku thrust forward, violently burying his length to the hilt, digging his nails painfully into the other man's sides. 

Naraku was mind-blown at the erotic mix of ecstasy and agony that throbbed through his body. Miroku drew himself partway out- then slammed roughly into him again, this time striking something within Naraku that made stars explode in the hanyou's brain.

Naraku screamed, his hips rising to meet the furious assault. Miroku's body was taut as a bowstring, thrusting powerfully into the writhing demon below him. His thrusts became deeper, stronger, completely filling Naraku, who was panting the monk's name, having lost as reasoning of reality, of what was happening, of how vulnerable he was. 

Not that Miroku would have hurt him _now_. 

Naraku felt the building of pressure in his nether regions- and that same blinding numbness that swept up his spine. He screamed, slamming himself into Miroku, who echoed the motion, crying Naraku's name as he released himself into the constricting body below. 

Both men collapsed, utterly exhausted at the maddened effort. Miroku was limp, dead weight atop Naraku, who was quickly recovering. He wasn't completely out of breath, but quite winded. And taking a hanyou's breath away was no small feat. 

When Naraku looked to Miroku again, he found the human unconscious. Sitting up, he drew the limp body up, to prevent him from rolling off onto the ground below. 

He was holding him. In his arms. 

Struck with a feeling he couldn't quite place- as well as disgusted with himself, Naraku dumped Miroku to the ground as if his skin were made of fire, drew up his soiled garments, and melted back into the forest to do some much-needed tidying up.

-----

Note: Err… yeah, that sucked X.x Sorry for the long delay- once again… I'll be sure to have Ch. 7 up a bit snappier than this one. Yeah. 

I _hope_ this isn't turning into a romance fic… that would only complicate things, ne? How could Naraku fall in love!? It's impossible. There. I said it. I'll stick to it. 

…maybe.


End file.
